Heat shot straight into my face. “I didn’t say that.”
“It was implied,” CJ said.
I winced. “I’m begging you to stop talking.”
Winnie laughed lightly, lowering her gaze to the table. There was color in her cheeks now, faint but visible.
“I assure you,” she said gently, “I’m not trying to lose weight.”
“Good,” I said quickly. Too quickly.
Billie kicked her feet, hitting me right in the knee. “You should eat, though. Daddy says food fixes sadness.”
Winnie’s eyes drifted toward mine, warm with amusement. “Perhaps I’ll make an exception another evening.”
That pleased me far more than it should have.
Dinner carried on before I could dwell on that too hard. The pasta Winnie had made was incredible, but then, everything she cooked was. It was nothing flashy or designed for compliments, but it was comfort food and made everyone quieter after the first few bites because they were too busy enjoying it to talk.
Billie broke the silence first. “The bake sale was better than every fundraiser ever.”
“That’s because there was violence,” CJ said.
“There was no violence,” Bianca corrected. “There was one isolated shin incident.”
“I defended Winnie’s honor,” Billie insisted.
Bianca sighed. “You assaulted a parent.”
“Well, Mr. Rodriguez really liked Winnie, so I didn’t get in trouble,” Billie said.
I raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
Billie nodded. “He was flirting with Winnie.”
I almost choked on my water. Who the hell did Mr. Rodriguez think he was? Flirting with a student’s nanny? The audacity.
Winnie must’ve noticed my grimace because she raised her hands in defense “Now, Billie. That’s not true. There was no flirting. The man simply enjoyed the pastries and the whimsy they brought to the event. That’s all.”
“That better be all,” I mumbled against my glass.
“What was that, Daddy?” Bianca asked.
“Oh… nothing. Just saying how it sounds like everyone had a ball.”
CJ leaned back dramatically in his chair. “Our grade never gets to do fun fundraisers. We just sell wrapping paper and coupon books like corporate interns.”
“The sixth grade had the magazine drive,” Bianca reminded him.
“That was psychological warfare.”
“You cried because Mrs. Henderson said your sales pitch lacked confidence.”
“She crushed my entrepreneurial spirit.”
Winnie tilted her head thoughtfully. “Did you recover?”
“Barely.”
